Stirling Gershon pulled the cuffs of his expensive tailored shirt as the doors slid open, then stepped off the lift. He turned right to the hotel lobby, and ran directly into a little man going in the other direction.

“Pardon,” Stirling said, as insincere as he could make the statement. The other man smiled up at him, a row of sharp and pointed teeth flashing for an instant. Stirling recoiled, stepping back.

“That is quite all right Inspector,” the little man said. “I was coming to see you, anyway.”

“I’m sorry, but I am on my way to a meeting,” Stirling said, a half-truth at best. He was on his way to another delicious breakfast in the hotel’s famed restaurant, and he had no desire to share it with this disturbing little...